The matter of art
by littleclevercat
Summary: The way of Tzeench is such a crinkum-crankum.


(Translation of Немного об искусстве by Avdotja Praskovievna)

* * *

It was a fine brawl!

Brod Lopata, the Inquisitor of Ordo Malleus, was quite pleased with the sorcerers' casualty count! The hotbed of the vice was crushed; the altar of Chaos was demolished. The Holy Inquisition would place the captured heretic books holding secrets of impious might under its strict control.

Yet, it was just a half the battle.

\- Inventory of captured materiel! - twanged an Adeptus Arbites representative.

The operation against the hotbed of the evil was sudden and forceful, and the local law-enforcement was recruited for support. Who could then guess that one of them would turn out to be such a killing bore?

\- What, the corpses too?

Still, making an inventory was not a task for an Inquisitor. Brod took a twitching tentacle between finger and thumb. Adepts of Tzeench were famous for their bizarre mutations. Lopata's late mentor, Cromwell, had once proposed to make a special exposition in the Inquisition's vaults. With many, many exhibit items!

Alas, there had rarely been any samples after cleansing operations of the Holy Inquisition.

However, this time the God-Emperor was looking at the Inquisitor somewhat favourably, and most of the sorcerers were disposed without losing of eighty percent of their bodies.

\- Well, let's get started.

\- Don't forget the gloves! – chirped a bashful young lady Arbites. It seemed that she took this job just recently. Her marksmanship was excellent, as well as her skills with a shock maul, and she definitely could kick a lot of arses in the heat of the fight! However, after that… "Ah, how could I?" with filmy eyes and so on. Over time, she would get used to it, of course.

Brod pulled on gloves and scratched his head. Where to start? Well, this particular six-eyed cultist looked quite promising!

\- Arbites, write down! Male body. Yes, definitely male, though it is possible that this is a mutation too.

\- Please, Inquisitor, stick to business! - snuffled out the Arbites and taped his stylus on a data-slate.

\- Male body, - continued the Inquisitor tightly, - middle-aged. Six eyes, two legs, rudimental tail, tentacle under armpit, and a twin brother near umbilicus.

\- How interesting! - The young lady Arbites looked over his shoulder. - And what is that, near right nipple?

\- Let's see… No, it is just a tattoo.

\- Cause of death… - droned the adenoidal Arbites like a teacher giving a nudge to an indolent pupil.

\- Sudden traumatic death. Your lovely lady split his skull with a club.

\- He was trying to ogle me!

\- It must have been an impressive sight! - Lopata stepped over the unlucky seducer and immediately stumbled upon a female corpse.

\- Arbites, write down! Female body, also middle-aged… Wow! Four boobs!

\- What boobs? - The Arbites torn himself from the data-slate, gobsmacked. – Are you suggesting I should write it to the report just like that?

\- This is sexism! - cried out the bashful young lady.

\- Then write it down as "breast", you are the report expert.

Again, Brod remembered his untimely-departed mentor, who was badly fond of making bets on Tzeench's sorcerers because they always had all kinds of organs and body parts tucked away in the most unlikely places. By Cromwell's words, once he came across one that had arse with ears. The way of Tzeench was a lottery, period. A lottery with very few winning tickets.

\- Got that! – after contemplating hard how to describe four boobs in a relatively harmless way, the Arbites finally decided to not go against truth in the official report.

\- Also, - Brod turned the woman's head over in his hands, - the body has second face on the back of the head. What, it was a Siamese Twins Meeting?

\- Who knows? - The optimum number of breasts per one woman was still on the Arbites' mind. – The cause of death?

\- A psychic blow. Mine.

Brod decided not to tell how he burned this handsome woman's brains, and moved along silently.

\- And what is this? - The Inquisitor bent over a young man's body. - Why are his pants down and… Sweet God-Emperor!

\- Is he looking on us? - The young lady Arbites still refused to mind her own business. - He is looking on us!

\- Arbites? Do you have any idea how, in a barren style of bureaucratese, describe an arse with eyes? Or eyes with an arse?

\- Erm… Please tell, Inquisitor, have you happen to come across such things before?

\- Only in a museum of contemporary art, Arbites. Only in a museum. So, where we were?

* * *

 _The name of the main character was suggested by WH40K Name Generator. Avdot'ja couldn't resist it because in Russian "lopata" means "shovel". There is an Russian idiom "Laugh after word "shovel", that derives from an anecdote._

 _This is the first attempt to translate my friends' fanfiction into English._


End file.
